


Part of Growing Up

by brethilaki



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Older Jamie, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brethilaki/pseuds/brethilaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack continues to visit Jamie, even though it's against the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of Growing Up

There was a reason the Guardians took pains to remain hidden.

There was a clause in their contract to protect the Earth's children that no one liked to remember, much less to discuss, but it was a necessary part of life and aging that the undead, ageless spirits had to accept.

A part of growing up is parting with magic of youth, partaking of the fruit of knowledge, and coming to terms with the fact that in adult life no one is there to protect you and you must learn to fend for yourself. The final and most lasting service the Guardians performed for their charges was to ease that disenchantment by remaining to children and adults alike an immaterial idea rather than a physical entity.

Jack did not like this rule. Nobody liked this rule, but Jack did not agree with it, either. He cited examples (from Seuss to Watterson) of adults who had lived productive lives without losing the spirit of their childhood. When this proved unconvincing, he came back with examples (from Tolkien to Rowling) of adults who had stressed the continued importance of the magic that experience was meant to destory. But ultimately the mandate came from the Moon and it was not their place or in their power to disobey.

Once again, Jack disagreed, and continued to visit and interact (on a visible plane) with the child who had become the most important person in his life.

He came at least once a year (on Jamie's birthday) and they would talk and play, and stay up as late as Jamie wanted, because Jack's present was always a snow day no matter the weather.

On Jamie's thirteenth birthday, Jack brought him brought him a necklace where he had tied two teeth taken from Toothiana—his and Jamie's, though not their first—and made Jamie promise never to forget him. Jamie took the oath adamantly, hiding the teeth in a drawer to keep the secret from his parents.

But at fourteen, Jamie asked Jack to stop delivering his snow days exactly on his birthday every year, as he considered it suspicious. At fifteen he had a girlfriend or three, who occupied more of his attention than Jack, and at sixteen he slept in till noon the first snow day of the year and spent the rest of it playing video games. Jack flew through his window around two o'clock and Jamie, alerted by the sudden and otherwise inexplicable burst of cold air, turned around with a toothy grin and offered him a controller.

“You wanna play?” His voice was deep.

Jack wanted to play, but not that. Still, he smiled (less enthusiastically than Jamie) and held the controller and stared at it like an old man trying to figure out how to use a CD player. But Jamie was patient, and Jack was happy to let him win every game.

At seventeen, Jamie seemed suddenly serious about studying, serious about school, painfully serious about his girlfriend. The Wednesday before his birthday he sat in bed reading a book. When Jack turned the pages playfully with a chill breeze, Jamie laughed quietly and started speaking before he even looked up, tender but calm.

“Hey, Jack. My birthday's not till Saturday, you know.” Jack felt his heart sink a little. “I'm actually really busy with school right now. I've got to finish this book by tomorrow and I still have some calculus to do. Can you come back this weekend?”

“You won't need it tomorrow if there's no school!” Jack said excitedly. “I was going to go big on the ice this year, I thought, something special for your eighteenth. Not enough to make you lose power or to damage any trees, but it'll be really pretty in the sun.” Jamie frowned.

“I don't know, Jack, my sister is supposed to go on a field trip tomorrow and she'll be really disappointed if it gets canceled...” Jack's heart soared again at Jamie's kindness, but his elation was tempered by the sobering, staggering realization that in just a few days, Jamie would be the same age that he was when he died. Jack fought to keep his composure as he assured Jamie,

“Of course. That's fine. I'll come by this weekend,”

and flew out the window where he promptly feel to the ground and wept, curled up and hugging himself for comfort. Not five minutes later he heard footsteps behind him and a voice taut with concern.

“Jack?”

Mortified, Jack blinked back his sobs and popped up.

“Jack? Are you alright? I saw you fall when you left my window and it looked like you were hurt...!” Jamie reached out and touched his shoulder, but Jack was too discomposed still to turn around and face him yet.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he lied. “I just... tripped. On the wind. You know, happens all the time.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like it hurt, are you bruised? Do you want me to look at it?”

“No, I'm... just embarrassed—ha, ha!—three hundred years I've been doing this and I trip on a little piece of air.” He finally gathered himself enough to spare Jamie a look, but the worry in his eyes made Jack hate himself for upsetting him. “Look, I'll see you this weekend,” Jack said quickly and flew off before he could hear Jamie's reply.

 

*

 

Saturday came, and although Jack waited till noon, Jamie was still in bed. Jack was about to knock on the window, but then he realized Jamie was not alone. There was a girl, underneath him, Jamie's girlfriend, who touched him in a tender way that made Jack crave physical contact suddenly more strongly than he had since before he had first been seen—and Jamie was taking off her shirt.

Jack colored and stared, mesmerized, as Jamie's shirt followed, and Jack was struck by how grown-up he really was, still lean, but more muscular than Jack, who remained slender and almost a head shorter than him.

The Jamie's pants slid off and Jack choked; Jamie was hard and Jack looked away, but couldn't keep his eyes off the muscles of Jamie's back, which rippled as he moved over the girl, as he moved in the girl, and stretched finally as he threw his head back and gasped a single word, at which point Jack tore his eyes from the scene (for once wishing he _were_ invisible) and let the wind buffet him away to the northmost marches of Canada where he buried his thoughts in snow drifts that rose half a foot above his head.

But he had promised to see Jamie, and he was back by late Sunday afternoon, bringing with him the promise of snow. Jamie seemed agitated, and the first thing he asked was,

“I hope you didn't try to come by yesterday... I was busy...”

“Oh, no. There was mischief afoot in Canada,” Jack lied. “Closer to six feet, actually. The snow just comes so easy up there that it's hard to stop.” Jamie relaxed visibly but not completely and gave a soft sigh.

“There's... actually, Jack, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about,” Jamie started, and Jack did not like the edge in his voice. “I've been looking at colleges, you know,”

“Of course.” Jack knew next to nothing about colleges.

“in Texas,” Jamie finished, regarding Jack cautiously. Jack's face fell.

“Texas? Why Texas?”

“I mean...” Jamie flushed a little, “it's not... I wasn't looking at colleges in Texas _specifically_ , more like, a _specific_ college in Texas. A &M. They have a good engineering program, and I'm sure I could get a scholarship. It's not the only place I'm applying, it'll really depend on who gives me the most money. But that's where I want to go.” The silence dragged out long and awkward before Jamie felt the need to fill it, “Of course, the change in weather will be nice,” and immediately regretted his words. Jack felt a physical sting in his chest and a sudden flash of anger at Jamie's ungrateful comment that made him retaliate in kind.

“Is that where your girlfriend is going? I saw you yesterday, before I went to Canada.” Jamie started and looked suddenly miserably uncomfortable, at the same time seeming to lose the courage to meet Jack's eyes.

“Actually,” he began, licking his lips and pausing for a long moment before he continued. “Actually, she's not my girlfriend anymore.”

That was the last thing Jack had been expecting to hear.

“Oh. I'm... sorry.”

“It was my fault. I...” he turned red and looked intently down at is folded hands. “I said someone else's name,” he admitted finally, quietly. Jack couldn't figure out what he meant.

“Someone else's name?” Jamie gave him an irritated look.

“Yesterday. When we were... you know.” But Jack was having trouble putting two and two together. “I said someone else's name when we were having sex!” Jack felt stupid.

“Oh.”

“ _Your name_ ,” Jamie snapped accusingly, in concurrent impatience and shame.

Jack felt like flurries of snow were swirling around his insides, making his head and his stomach light.

“ _Oh_.” There was a cold silence and Jack could feel like a warning on his skin the light of a half-lidded moon hanging heavy outside Jamie's window. He ruffled the curtains shut with a soft breeze.

A voice rose quiet and small above the tense air and it was Jamie's, pitched ten years younger, “This is why I wanted to leave.” Jack realized with some horror that he was on the edge of tears.

“All my friends are growing up and I'm having sick fantasies about my imaginary friend.” Being called “imaginary” stung but it was Jamie's final confession that hit Jack like an avalanche: “No one else believes in you. No one else can see you. They'd call me crazy if I told them, so I'm starting to wonder, What if I really am? How do I know you're real, if you're only in my mind?” A pit opened in Jack's stomach empty as the wastes of Siberia and the nervous flurries buffeting his inner walls turned to gusts. The need for contact suddenly overcame him again and he reached forward, touching Jamie's arm. Jamie flinched away, reflexively, but let his arm slide slowly back.

“Can—” Jack leaned in hesitantly. “Can I show you? Can I prove to you that I'm real?” Jamie was hot to the touch, burning against Jack's hands. Not painfully, but like the thawing of extremities stiff with cold. He was drawn to the heat like a magnet, moving forward in slow motion. Even Jamie's breath was hot, shallow... and his forehead was feverish... his nose was lukewarm.... but his lips were searing, and wind chapped, the rough cracks scraping against Jack's lips hypersensitive, thawing skin.

Jack didn't care, because the absence of that touch had been more painful still.

He sighed, very softly, in disappointment when Jamie was forced to break the kiss for air for his living lungs. Jack cupped his face, sensually starved, and when he couldn't move Jamie's panting head back down to his mouth, he used it to pull himself forward, resting a knee on Jamie's upper leg and pushing back until the chair tilted dangerously.

Jamie grabbed the desk to steady them, pushed the front legs of the chair back to the floor, nudging and gentle readjusting Jack's limbs until he straddled Jamie's lap. At the same time Jack was ridding Jamie of his jacket, relishing the contact of bare skin as he slid his hands up, down Jamie's arms and down the front of his shirt and unconsciously up under it, hiking it up to Jamie's neck.

Jamie pulled back from the kiss to moan quietly and lift his arms for Jack to remove the shirt, hips rocking slowly and drawing attention to a budding erection. Jack started slightly and jerked away and looked at Jamie with wide eyes. His hands were deep under Jamie's shirt; he brushed his thumb lightly over Jamie's chest and realized he was caressing a hardening nipple. Jamie released a small whine and flushed deeper under Jack's gaze.

Jamie had said his name. Jamie had said Jack's name during sex. Jamie wanted to have sex with him. A sudden understanding of the situation blossomed in Jack's thawing heart, and congealed blood liquified and began coursing through his every extremity, first rushing to his head and then pooling in his groin, making him dizzy and confused.

Jamie, discouraged by Jack's stillness, looked down, lowered his arms, and stilled his hips. “Sorry,” he muttered, bringing Jack out of his daze.

“No!” Jack said quickly, feeling a blush spread over his own pale skin. “No... it... it's okay...” He pulled at Jamie's shirt again, this time succeeding in pulling it over his head and dropping it in a pile on the floor with his jacket. Laid bare with Jamie's chest was a chain of hardened rope which had been tucked under the shirt, at the end of which hung two small human teeth. Jack reached up and pressed his hand to it, filled with brief sense of nostalgia, a bittersweet joy, but Jamie was insistent on removing Jack's hoodie next, and the moment was cut short. That was okay, because in the next moment they were pressed chest to chest, as close as they could hold each other, a sheen of sweat and a pair of teeth the only thing separating naked torsos as they rocked together on the chair, making soft, needy noises into each other's mouths and bare necks.

Jamie's hands found their way down Jack's back, along his thighs, and on to cup his ass. Jamie stood awkwardly up, Jack's legs wrapped around his waist and their bodies and mouths still joined. They stumbled blindly forward until they hit a wall, only Jamie didn't stop, pressing Jack hard against the wall, deepening the kiss, hiking his knee up into Jack's crotch and rutting shamelessly against his thigh. He nipped his jaw and neck, leaving bruises that turned red instead of blue, with bright flowing blood. Jack's hair was damp and he felt afire, the wall cool against his back and Jamie burning against his chest.

“Jamie!” he gasped, and Jamie mumbled into his skin,

“I go by James now.” Jack nuzzled the hair on the top of his head affectionately.

“No. That sounds weird.”

“Mm,” Jamie agreed, shaking as he shifted Jack's leg to a better position, his frotting growing more frantic. “Ah!”

“Bed... Jamie, the bed... that way...” he grabbed Jamie under the arms and flew backward haltingly until they collapsed into Jamie's bed, where they rolled around in a knot of limbs and sheets until Jamie threw Jack finally onto his back and loomed over him, hands fumbling thickly with his fly. Jack reached up to assist him but their hands became tangled and it was several frustrating moments before he was unzipped but then only seconds before they were both naked and panting, pausing for the first time since Jack's blood had thawed. Jack felt now like he was melting, and in fact his cock was leaking and his body was slick with sweat. Jamie was just as hard: a heavy bead of his precome drooped then dropped, drawing a viscous line from his tip to Jack's balls, where it slid slowly toward the bed, torturing Jack with its lightness.

“I... I don't know what to do next,” Jamie admitted shyly, but Jack had been alone for 300 years, and there was only one thing he knew how to do: so he reached up and grabbed Jamie's throbbing cock, jerking his hand till the boy cried out softly and bit his lip, not wanting his parents to hear. His hand flitted down to Jack's erection and he let himself fall onto his side so he could have both hands free, one for Jack's cock and the other to pull their bodies closer and closer as they stroked each other and kissed and nipped every inch of bare skin their mouths could reach, teeth scraping shoulders and necks, and chests where the necklace rested between them.

Every inch they couldn't reach, Jack shifted and maneuvered for more and more contact (hungry for heat and desperate for skin), until their erections brushed, their balls bumping each other irregularly in shocks of pleasure, slick fingers tangling and getting in the way as Jack's hips jerked suddenly forward into the touch.

So Jamie moved their hands and rolled Jack onto his back again, letting their fingers twine beside Jack's head as he used his other hand to hold his hips, pressing their bodies together and thrusting so that their dicks slid across each other in the warm heat between their bellies, balls jostling, spikes of pleasure more frequent and more constant. Jack locked his arm around Jamie's waist and thrust back, but their strokes were frantic and ill-timed, and both were teetering at the edge. 

Jack let his moans escalate into loud cries, knowing Jamie was the only one who could hear them, and let his head fall back into the bedspread. Both his hands forgot what they were doing and dug instead into the skin of Jamie's back. Jack heard Jamie's breath hitch, felt Jamie bury his head in his shoulder to muffle a scream as he came, body and hips convulsing, bursts of wet seed spilling between their heaving stomachs.

Jack turned his head to nuzzle Jamie's hair and wished that he could see his face. Soon instead he was seeing white and coming himself, consumed by flame, his senses buzzing but his mind blank.

When vision cleared, he saw Jamie slumped, still shaking, across his chest. When sound returned, he could hear him whimpering weakly, “Oh. Oh, God. Oh, God. God. Oh. Oh. Oh,” but Jack was still to winded to speak. Instead he turned them both to their sides again and nestled down into Jamie's chest, burrowing his quickly cooling body deep into the radiating warmth like a hibernating bear who never wanted to see spring come. 

 _Don't grow up. Don't forget me,_ he thought as quivering skin stilled and arms like embers scorched his back, _Jamie. Never let me go._


End file.
